Judy – Page 110 – Dear Liza

Mixing It Up a Little

Dear Liza,

Human beings are creatures of habit, they say, but I have always disagreed. I like to go on adventures…walking eight miles to Sellwood, bussing across town for a hike, taking the train to Vancouver and biking around the city. But as we go along in the quarantine, I realize how much I am leaning on my habits. Especially in uncertain times, we feel the need to do normal things in the normal way.

Here, that means morning coffee with news on the sofa, writing blogs, then crossword puzzles, then French practice on Duolingo.

The recent addition of online watercolor classes with Ruth Inman in Illinois has helped fill Tuesday and Thursday mornings with art and conversation. It has also given me courage to make more art.

The other day I painted my first sunflower. I had been doing little daisies and simple roses, which feel less daunting. Sunflowers are imposing. They are flower royalty that literally looks down on everyone. They have gravitas.

And when I got it done, I felt pretty good about it. I asked Auntie Bridgett. “It’s not bad,” she said kindly. “But you could use some colored pencils to bring it out more, to make it pop.”

My first thought was, “What if I screw it up?” But I slapped that thought down, stepped over it, and moved on. We walked to Collage down on Division Street and bought me some Vera Thin pencils along with more watercolor paper.

I started playing. Painting like before, but with the knowledge that some parts would be enhanced or shaded with pencils. I learned about complementary colors and how to use them for emphasis, that shadows are never black, and that short lines can make lovely curves. It is another tiny step outside my comfort zone.

This using of paints and pencils, or pastels and collage, or crayons and paint, is called mixed media. You mix bits that you already know, some you don’t, and come up with something new. This is an interior adventuring, and one I am enjoying very much.

Maybe it will keep my adventurous muscles strong for when I can go adventuring outside again.

Love,

Grandma Judy

…And While We’re on the Subject…

Dear Liza,

So, the other day I was remembering how my Momma encouraged us to deal with sad times by finding things to be grateful for. And then yesterday, coming back from running errands, I found the Gratitude Tree.

This is a tree planted in the parkway at SE 36th and Main Street. I don’t know how long it has been there, and don’t know how I have missed it until now. Indeed, I may have seen it, but since I didn’t NEED it, it didn’t register. Brains are like that.

Anyway, I stopped and had a good visit with the Gratitude Tree. It carries the website http://www.gratitudedojo.com and is covered with Manila tags, which are attached to a rope by thin wire. Hundreds of people have written what they are grateful for and attached their thanks.

These acknowledgements of gifts great and small made me smile. And, like the Grinch, my heart grew a few sizes. Even in the midst of racial upheavals and violence, an international pandemic and incompetent leadership, there is a lot to be grateful for.

I don’t know who has provided our neighborhood with this wonderful way to put our joy and appreciation on display. I wish I did. I would make them a batch of cookies and write them a limerick.

Cookies don’t travel well online, but here is the limerick.

Down in Sunnyside there is a tree,

That became a ray of sunshine for me.

Instead of berating,

This tree’s celebrating!

And the love’s out there for all to see.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Gratitude

Dear Liza,

It seems there is a pendulum in my emotions that swings back and forth. Most days it is somewhere in the middle, and I go through the days happily reading, painting, and cooking.

But every few weeks or so, the pendulum swings all the way to total energized happiness, and I walk for miles and make cookies. A few weeks later, it swings back, and it is a struggle to get out of bed and make conversation.

I know we are all going through this together, but we are doing it mostly alone. And it’s hard, sometimes. My Momma was a big fan of gratitude in times like these. She grew up in Dust Bowl Oklahoma and didn’t have much in terms of clothes or toys. But she loved her tiny flower garden and her dog.
So now it’s my turn.

I am grateful for:

My family, near and far. The near ones hold me together with love, patience and silliness, and the far ones remind me that we will all be together again someday.

Old friends. Some I know from kindergarten, high school, or just last year. But the network is there and lets me remember my connected-ness.

My health. This is a gift that I try not to abuse or take for granted.

Flowers, plants, wind, and clouds. Yesterday evening, watching the wind make the trees dance in the sunset was the highlight of my day.

Crossword puzzles, baking, and art. These small challenges keep my brain active and make me laugh. Also, cookies!

Well, I feel better. I hope you find a lot to be grateful for and that it brings you joy.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Black and White Therapy

Dear Liza,

Since we are staying in so much and we can’t get out for concerts or shows, movies and games have become more important in our evening plans.

Our household doesn’t like some very popular types of movies. The string of DC and Marvel comics-based super heroes do not thrill us. We don’t care for violence or explosions. I guess we are kind of old fashioned.

So, we like old fashioned movies!

Alfred Hitchcock’s classics are very well written and suspenseful while much less violent than modern movies of their genre. We enjoy them very much.

Old musicals from the 30s, 40s, and 50s are wonderful to watch when we need a break from reality, when going out for a hot dog can be a health threat and politics as usual has ceased to work for anyone but the politicians.

Last night we watched 1933s Flying Down to Rio, and it was delightful. Besides the incredible clothes and manic facial expressions, it was Fred Astaire’s and Ginger Rogers’ first movie together. They didn’t play the lead characters, but were supporting bigger stars, Dolores del Rio and Gene Raymond as star-crossed lovers. They only had one full-on dance number, “The Carioca”, but their humor and chemistry were obvious, and they went on to make nine more movies together.

So, in case you are old fashioned too, here are my (mostly) black and white movie recommendations:

The Thin Man series, starring William Powell and Myrna Loy as society detectives. The original is the best, but they are all good, with actors like Jimmy Stewart in unexpected roles.

Hitchcock’s movies are all good, but my favorites are Dial M for Murder, Rear Window, and To Catch a Thief.

Musicals : Anything with Fred Astaire and/ or Ginger Rogers, and movies with Gene Kelly and his casually athletic dance moves, like On the Town or Brigadoon.

I also like the old Katharine Hepburn/ Spencer Tracy pair-ups like Adam’s Rib and Pat and Mike. I am a sucker for smart aleck-y dialogue mixed with romance.

ADAM’S RIB, Spencer Tracy, Katharine Hepburn, 1949

I hope you enjoy some of these, and maybe discover some of your own favorites.

Love,

Grandma Judy

All Those Blueberries

Dear Liza,

We finally got home with our groceries and all those blueberries, and man, was I tired! We put out feet up, had dinner, and finally had the energy to deal with our fruity bounty.

First, they needed to be washed. These wonderful berries from Columbia Farms are organic, but bird poop and tractor dust are not welcome in my kitchen. We dumped them in the sink, swished them around, and scooped them into our biggest bowl.

Since most of these berries are going to spend the next six months or so in our freezer, they needed to be dried and then frozen individually before being bagged and stacked.
This process happened in several stages, since our freezer is small.

Meanwhile, I found a new recipe for blueberry cobbler. The one I used last year, from Martha Stewart, was too sweet for our tastes. This one, from the All Recipes website, had less sugar.

All Recipes Blueberry Cobbler before being devoured

Recipe:

Combine 3 cups berries, 3 T white sugar and 1/2 c orange juice in an 8×8 pan. Set aside.

In a small bowl, blend 2/3 c flour, 1/4 t baking soda and a pinch of salt.

In a medium bowl, cream 1/2 cup butter 1/2 c sugar, 1 egg, and one t. Vanilla until light and fluffy. Just bring together with flour mixture. Spread topping evenly over berries. Bake at 375 for 40 minutes.

I added 1/2 oatmeal to the topping for more crunch.

Once the cobbler was cool enough to eat, we piled some in bowls and slurped it up. It was so good! And, of course, we had some for snack the next day. And the next. It was even better after a rest in the fridge.

I plan to enjoy these berries for months to come, and maybe even make a nice blueberry cobbler for Christmas!

Love,

Grandma Judy

The Lighthouse Inn

Dear Liza,

Once we sadly said goodbye to Sauvie Island and headed back towards town, lunch was definitely next on the agenda. Auntie Bridgett pulled over in front of a small, idiosyncratic cafe called The Lighthouse Inn.

This building has been here since 1865 and carries a lot of history.

Shortly after the town of Linnton was established in 1844, this was a branch of The First U.S. National Bank and Post Office, and even a barber shop. The brass grill of the teller window and the tiny brass post office boxes are still there, adding to the story.

There are reminders of the area’s location on the Willamette, and its importance to the shipping industry that built the city. Each table has a ship’s bell above it with a pull rope (I guess if you want more beer, like, right now. The tables are held up by ship’s chains, welded to hold their shape. For many years, starting in the 1950s, this was where longshoremen would come after a long cold day loading and unloading ships, to get a drink and something hot to eat.

There is a wonderful old drawing of the river steamer The Portland II between the men’s room and the ladies’.

In other decorative touches, the walls are paneled with at a crazy quilt of different types of wood, and over several of the tables are old English railroad signs. Every place you looked, there was something interesting, quirky, and just plain odd. I loved it.

We chatted with the owner, enjoyed french fries, fried chicken and ahi tuna, caught our breath, and continued on to do the shopping.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Sauvie Island, Masked

Dear Liza,

Yesterday we got to do something normal! That is, something we have done since we have lived in Portland. We drove out to pick blueberries on Sauvie Island. Sauvie Island is the largest island in the Columbia River, and is a big dollop of farms and wild area just minutes from downtown Portland.

To get there, we crossed to the west bank of the giant Willamette River, drove north a bit, and then crossed the tiny Multnomah Channel, and there we were. Pastoral paradise.

Now, of course there were accommodations for Covid-19. We all wore masks, kept our distance, and used the farm’s boxes to keep from giving them any of our germs.

Staying distanced but still jigging along…

But the picking was the same. Pulling pounds of juicy berries off bushes, planning the dozens of cobblers and muffins, is very satisfying, in a hunter-gatherer sort of way.

Among the bushes, we listened to parents chat with their kids and smiled at our first post-Covid babies. We watched dozens of swallows swoop low to get berries, only slightly discouraged by the broadcast hawk shrieks. We reveled in just being outdoors, being part of the world. As the box filled up, we picked slower, not wanting our time to end.

Auntie Bridgett, getting just a few more!

There is so much of Sauvie Island we haven’t seen yet. There is a nature preserve full of water birds. There are farms that specialize in Marionberries.

But eventually, the call of lunch got too loud to tune out, and we needed to head off. Of course, this lead to another adventure! More tomorrow.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Vegetable Gardening Experiment

Dear Liza,

The condominium where we live is very nice. It is bright and comfortable and is in a busy, lovely neighborhood. But what it lacks is a yard. Partly, this is a good thing.. I don’t have to mow or weed. But when I DO want to play in the dirt, I don’t have a spot.

So when we realized that our kitchen window gets full sun all day, that became our garden spot. We have used it to grow lettuce and chives from seed, and to keep some pretty orchids. But now we have an almost Frankenstein experiment going on.

Auntie Bridgett read that the bottom of a celery stalk would keep growing, even when you had eaten the rest. This was almost too weird to believe, but the window sill was free, so we gave it a shot.

We put a half inch of water in a plastic dish and set the root ends of the stalks in. Then, as with all experiments (and gardens), we waited. It didn’t take long,

Within a day, we had tiny green shoots coming up, as though the celery was saying “I’m not done yet!” As they got bigger, we made space in the planter box and moved them into the dirt. And they are still growing!

They probably won’t grow into a whole new stalk, I keep saying. But I didn’t think they would grow at all, so what do I know?

Love,

Grandma Judy

Father’s Day

Dear Liza,

In the days before Father’s Day, I focused on my Dad, who is long gone. But I got to spend the actual day with two of my favorite dads… Grandpa Nelson and your Daddy David.

First, Grandpa Nelson and I went for a walk. Neither one of us was feeling great, so we planned a slow stroll through the Laurelhurst neighborhood. There are always lovely gardens to see, and the hilly streets make every turn a surprising view.

The houses in this area were built between the 1920s to the 1930s, and have the feeling of ancient mansions. Tiny stone staircases wind through steep yards and hundred year old trees stand proudly.

Hundred year old silver maple on NW Davis

While we were walking, Auntie Katie texted Grandpa Nelson to say Happy Father’s Day, and we decided to meet up at Colonel Summers Park. It was a longer walk than we had planned, but, as usual, I felt better once I got moving.

At the park we saw folks visiting (from safe distances), walking their dogs, and working in the community garden. Auntie Katie ran over (literally, she was on a run) and I realized I was hungry, so we walked to an old favorite, the Rocking Frog. Their back patio is perfect for non-crowded visiting. We took some Quarantine hair portraits! Katie gets her curly hair from Grandpa Nelson, so they kind of look alike, like Mad Scientists.

After we finished our visit, Katie continued her run and we walked the mile back up the hill to get home. I painted and rested for a while, then your Daddy David called and we had a nice visit over Duo. It was good to see you and hear that your family is planning to visit us here in Portland, once things open up a bit more.

And when all the visiting was over, Grandpa Nelson, Auntie Bridgett and I took our supper of cheese and goodies out onto the balcony and enjoyed the fine summer evening.

A perfect dinner for the first day of summer!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Dad (Part 1)

Dear Liza,

Your great grandpa, my dad, Lowell Evans, died in 1998, fifteen years before you were born. He was a very good man, and you should know a little about him.

Great grandpa Lowell with most of his siblings….

Lowell was born on a farm in Ellensburg, Washington in 1921. He was the oldest son in a family of ten kids, and was raised to be responsible for himself and to care for other people. He held onto those habits his whole life.

When World War II started, he headed to California to work in the aircraft industry. After a hasty marriage, he was drafted and served in the Pacific, returning home to realize his wife had set up housekeeping with his paycheck and another fellow. Heartbroken, he went to find the only other address he had in California, his former co-worker at the plant, a lady named Billie. After several years’ courtship, he and Billie bought a house in Manhattan Beach, got married and started having kids. That was the beginning of our family.

Dad was always looking for a way to have fun. He’d start singing a made-up song, run out of lyrics, and finish with “…And that’s all I know of that one.” He’d call us all out of the house for a walk and end up at the ice cream shop. His evenings were spent planning camping trips or making furniture for the house. He made desk/dresser/ nightstand sets for all the bedrooms, a desk and coffee table for the living room, and even a playhouse for me.

He helped run the Pop Warner Junior football league, a Little League team, and was a Boy Scout leader. He attended every game, every show and every parade my brothers and I were part of.

He cared for his friends, too. He had become friends with an old bachelor man at work, Phil Conway. One day, Phil got hit by a piece of equipment and cracked some ribs, and the boss sent him home for the weekend. Dad knew that Phil would go home, lay down, and not be able to get up. Since my parents didn’t have a car, Dad took a cab and fetched Phil to our house and had him sleep in the big chair until he healed up.

There were lots of other folks he cared for, too. He walked three brides down the aisle before me, young women from work whose own dads were unwilling or unable to stand up for them.

Camping was how we spent all our vacations. Dad and my brothers loved it, and I did, too. It was a time of not too many rules… we weren’t expected to be quiet, go to bed early, stay clean, or eat our vegetables. We could spend hours walking in the woods or building dams in the river. Even Momma came to enjoy it, as Dad took over the cooking duties and she could read and relax more.

When Dad was fifty five, he developed rheumatoid arthritis. He hurt all the time and had trouble breathing. He got treatment and got better, but his doctor advised taking early retirement because “you don’t know how many good years you have left.” Dad spent two years remodeling the kitchen, learning to bake bread, and generally driving Momma crazy. He finally convinced her to retire, too. They sold the house and moved to tiny Lompoc, California.

And, believe it or not, that was just the beginning of a whole ‘nother set of adventures! More tomorrow!

Love,

Grandma Judy